but first there was a dinner with Dave on our porch, observing his lights from the side while having some interesting conversations about these places’ pasts, presents and futures.  We subsequently visited him at Parker to Apple visualize his globes in 3D as big as the room

after which, out in the so-called “real” world, he treated us to a drone demo which went from

his driveway all the way over Wall to Seth and Sonny’s encampment* and back in minutes.

Saturday I was obliged to go to Gerlach again to collect more things Fedex had dumped** unceremoniously at the P.O. where Louis reminded me they don’t do retail on Saturdays

but was kind enough to hold on to Linda’s books until Monday, thinking she could just phone in her credit card info – not that simple it turned out – but as long as I was there I took off again

 up 34 into a bright and shiny morning with no one about

in the wide open range of the Hualapai save for Willey’s water truck going north and

a belly dump  [neither shown, neither nearly as cherry as the Ranco in the link] inbound.

Up Leadville Canyon intermittent cricket infestations continued but aside from them only

a couple checking out Lund’s caged rock were around until around Hog Ranch Mountain

a semi cattle hauler came barreling in through the dust, trailed a bit later by a cowboy pulling

a stock trailer. Otherwise only scattered cows were seen in oceans of sagebrush somewhat reminiscent of the-by-me-sorely-missed Sheldon country to the north on the long slow climb

to the headwaters of Lost Creek before making the abrupt drop down and out to 447

at Duck Flat, 35 or so miles [I forgot to look] from 34.  All that dirt since the Hualapai had left me a little buzzed, so after a minimal lunch overlooking surprise Valley’s Lower Lake

Saturday’s overflow crowds at Alturas’ hardware store and Holiday Market [The Rite Aid was surprisingly devoid of both of customers and stock] were a shock.  After an hour or so of that I left civilization behind, fueled in Cedarville and, feeling too intimidated to ask the guy in the Trumphat what he thought of The Verdict, turned south – Eagleville,- Bare Ranch – to cross

into Nevada, Duck Flat, follow 447 over the Buffs [forgot, again, to check the altitude]

and down the canyon to the Smoke Creek Desert, elevation 3870′; home after 7.5 hours and

243 miles with only another week’s groceries and some screening for the doors to show for it.

Dave left the next day and the weather warmed from there.

*Said encampment, having only been there for six weeks, does not appear to appear on google maps.  Nor was it, according to google maps, on “Surprise Valley Road”, which. as far as I can tell does not exist.  At least around here.

**Most crucially my as watercolor paper had just run out.